


For The Heart May Sing

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Blind Character, Blindness, Friendship, Gen, Inspired by Music, Music, Musical Instruments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: Music!AUHumans weren’t meant to be alone, and instruments couldn’t sing their potential all alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yurio plays the bass  
> Yuuri plays the viola  
> Viktor, who's more like a side character in this fic, plays the violin  
> Michele plays the trumpet  
> Sara's here to listen to a performance

The low drone of a bass echoed in the practice hall as Yuri pulled his bow into quick staccatos while his fingers fell onto the stream of proceeding notes like a grasshopper leaping from from one patch of foliage to another. Fingers dancing down his instrument’s bridge, Yuri’s bow remained steady and poised as he entered the next musical phrase. Each vibrato resonated like a church bell. Notes and rhythms ran past Yuri’s eyes. His memory wasn’t all that great on a lot of things but when it came to music, his brain worked a double work-shift to capture everything that Yuri needed. Where were the soft passages, the loud passages, the elegant passages, the choppy passages, and the passages that just screamed  _ soloist  _ under their breaths?

Yuri knew where all of them were. His body moved like two people. One person moving the bow back and forth, catching the hooked notes and the slippery slurs. One person worked the finer gears in Yuri’s left hand. Lightning-quick fingers tap dancing over the bass strings, the pitter patter of a storm for tremolos, and shifting up and down the bridge like a manman. But like any coin, there was another side to these two individuals that made up Yuri. The bow moved slowly, increasing in pressure and then softening along the edge. The fingers moved precisely but with time, letting each note ring out and bid their greetings to the world. Little by little, the notes grew softer and then louder. Finally, the last descending pattern melted into silence.

“You’ve improved a lot since our first concert.”

Loosening his bow, Yuri set his bass down before hopping off his stool. Leaning against a creamy ceramic pillar was Yuuri,  _ a rising violist whose heart was as fragile as glass.  _ Case hugged in his arms, Yuuri shed a smile onto his bass junior and clapped his hands. Softly. Yuri rolled his head to the side while he picked up his bass. Every person had a distinct note or  _ resonance  _ that was associated with their claps. Yuri was never able to pick out what Yuuri’s was, but he doubted that the violist cared. The violist came to give his support, and Yuri was more than ready to receive it.

“I’m not the hot-headed bassist from before,” Yuri muttered. “I’ll show everyone that and,” he lowered his head,  _ “hopefully earn a token for appealing to the audience’s hearts.” _

Yuuri hummed a little child’s tune under his breath. “You’ve worked really hard on that solo ever since Viktor gave it to you, and everyone will hear that when you play.”

Yuri rolled his eyes but then stopped himself. It wouldn’t have the same effect on Yuuri. The latter didn’t even know that Yuri rolled his eyes at all. The violist simply looked in the general direction where he thought Yuri was and smiled. There was an innocence in that smile, and Yuri didn’t want its meaning to be thrown away. Clearing his throat, Yuri approached Yuuri and offered to help the former carry his viola case. It was a nice gesture, but Yuuri replied that he had everything under control.

“There’s a practice room down the corner that you can go to. The hall is going to be crowded once the orchestra comes.”

“Perhaps.” Yuuri whistled a little tune as he took his first unsteady steps away from the pillar. “Can you show me where the room is?”

Yuri’s eyebrow twitched. “I’m going to hold your arm and take you there.”

Yuuri adjusted his load, and Yuri slipped his hands around the violist’s left arm. Still whistling, Yuuri followed his junior. Their footsteps echoed in the hall. Door opened and both musicians inside, Yuuri gave his thanks as unpacked his viola. Yuri shrugged it off, but he still had to respond verbally so that Yuuri had a clue. Then again, silence had its own answer. However, it was difficult to distinguish the meanings when you couldn’t see anything that was an inch away from your face. Despite the blindness, Yuuri wore glasses so that people would assume that he needed a stronger prescription. A little inside joke, but Yuri didn’t find it very funny when he first met the violist just a few months before.

Now, the younger musician felt indifferent about the joke as Yuuri tuned his viola carefully and messed with the pegs.

“What song are you performing?”

Yuuri’s face pointed to where he heard Yuri’s voice. “Just a nice arrangement that Viktor composed for the viola, violin, and piano. It’s for Michele’s sister, Sara.”

Yuri bit his bottom lip, regretting that he asked. Michele Crispino was a bit of a sore subject to talk about. It wasn’t because his trumpet skills were mediocre or anything. On the contrary, he was perhaps the nicest trumpetist that anyone knew, despite his over-protective nature and generally unfiltered mouth. Nicknamed as the  _ Brass Whistle,  _ Michele carried the legacy of being the main provider for him and his sister, Sara, ever since they were little kids. This competition,  _ this finale,  _ was Michele’s last shot to earn the required money for his sister’s surgery.

After twelve years of combatting visual impairment, Sara lost it all just a few months ago. Ever since, Michele had been struggling alone to cater to Sara’s needs with each passing day. Everybody knew about it and donated in any way that they could to help lower the bill that rode on Michele’s shoulders. However, Michele was ten thousand short and by default because of his rankings during his past qualifying competitions, Yuuri Katsuki took his place for the grand finale.

Of course, Michele had a level-head and congratulated Yuuri for his efforts, but the latter didn’t feel right. Yuuri persuaded the judges to let Michele move to the final stage instead, but the Italian wouldn’t agree to the terms because it wouldn’t feel honest. Besides, Michele had done all that he could to help Sara. He needed rest now, and that meant retiring from his trumpet for good while he took care of his sister.

“You’re going to do great. Michele will really appreciate it,” Yuri added. He flexed his fingers, watching Yuuri slur a few notes with one bow.

“It’s not just for Michele but for Sara too. Both of them are in a tight spot, and I wish I could do more.”

“You’re doing more than enough. They both know that.”

“Maybe I’m just being silly,” Yuuri whispered.

Yuri  _ tsked  _ his tongue.  _ “How blind are you?”  _ The words flew out of Yuri’s mouth before he could catch them. Yuuri didn’t say anything afterwards, and that feared the bassist the most. He couldn’t see Yuuri’s face, and that struck a crooked arrow through the heart. Yuri tried to apologize, but Yuuri reminded him that he had a performance to do in half an hour.

“You should go practice, Yurio.” Yuuri’s shoulders sagged slightly. “You’re the first one up to perform.”

Yuri didn’t say anything. He simply closed the door and left. Actually, he bolted towards his bass and didn’t dare look back.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ Yuri couldn’t even pick up his bow without hearing his backhanded comment echoing in his mind.  _ Relax.  _ He tried to practice his song, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate.  _ Not now. Please.  _ Steadying his fingers, Yuri tried again. His hands remained stiff as his performance time was up.

Changed into something formal, Yuri asked for help for his bowtie before making his way across the stage. Brights lights, an expectant crowd, and judges looked up to Yuri as he stood where he was. His precious bass in his arms, Yuri stretched his arms and closed his eyes.  _ Don’t think about what you said.  _ He finally loosened up.  _ When words fail, music prevails.  _ Counting himself off, a low drone crept from Yuri’s bass as his heavy bowing poured onto the crowd. What made him happy? Seeing people smile made him happy. If it was to see Yuuri’s smile like from before, Yuri would have to express how far he had come since he first met Yuuri.

Before their first competition against each other,  _ before Yuri personally flew to Japan to win Viktor back from the violist _ , the two first met after a concert. Yuuri was made of glass, and Yuri was the pebble that cracked the vase into two. Rough, edgy, temperamental, and feisty, Yuri used to hate working in an ensemble. People were too slow or they never pulled their weight, so he decided to work alone. Be the standout soloist he could be on an instrument that almost nobody cared about.

Humans weren’t meant to be alone, and instruments couldn’t sing their potential all alone. It took a viola to make Yuri’s bass warm again. It took a violin to bring out the dynamics and emotions that were bottled deep inside Yuri’s heart. It took an ensemble to make the bassist feel whole again when  _ he  _ was cracked into two. A vase was never the same when you repair it. A few pieces usually go astray or never fit back quite right, but it was able to hold its fill of water. Enough water to help the plants by the window flourish when they were thirsty.

That was Yuri as he played his bass solo. Rough around the edges but fluid like water with his triplets, slurs, hooked bowings, and all that dynamic flair that Viktor drilled into his head after taking a trip to a waterfall to meditate under. Memories of spending time with Viktor and Yuuri floated around in his head, each memory resonating with his music to paint a story that Yuri couldn’t tell on his own. And with the last trail of notes, Yuri lowered his head as the crowd gave him a standing ovation. When he looked up and looked back at the curtains on the right wing, he saw Yuuri. A clapping Yuuri,  _ a clapping Yuuri who had a smile that was good as gold. _

Yuri tried to play it off cool, but then he remembered that Yuuri couldn’t see him so he smiled too. With Yuri’s marks tallied, they called for the next performance and then another until it was Yuuri’s turn. With Minako by his side, Yuuri was on the center of the stage while Minako retreated behind the piano and gave Yuuri a verbal cue. In the crowd, Michele and Sara Crispino sat in the front row. Michele bit his thumb, eyes darting to where Viktor should’ve been. Where was Viktor? Where was the violinist? Michele glanced at his sister. Sara choked her programs’ sheet as she anticipated for the song that was dedicated to her. Not only scared but worried. How was her dear brother doing? Was he fine not making it to the finale this year?

Michele reached for Sara’s hand and held it close. Sara squeezed Michele’s hand tightly. Backstage, Yuri tried to figure out where Viktor was. Texting wasn’t working. The violinist didn’t reply back. Onstage, Yuuri was tense but he remained calm. He knew it was just him and Minako, and it didn’t feel out of place for Yuuri. It had always been just him and Minako for years before he finally got the guts to join and perform in an ensemble. Where Viktor was, Yuuri would have to figure out later. Now was not for Viktor. Now was for Michele and Sara, the two people Yuuri grew to care for as he was a shoulder for Michele to lean while being an aid to Sara as she adjusted to her recently lost sense.

Minako counted them both off. Her piano started the piece off while Yuuri lightly tapped his fingers to find the right note before joining into the duet. Playing Viktor’s part, Yuuri pulled the melody down an octave as he followed along to the lead of Minako’s piano. Guided only by what he had heard during their practices, Yuuri recreated every note and rhythm that was stamped with Viktor Nikiforov’s Seal of Approval. His mellow viola sang and weaved in and out of the melody like a songbird taking flight, not exactly dominating the piece but not exactly resting against the sidelines.

The chorus came and a distinct violin sliced through the piano harmony, and Yuuri perked up. The closest he could get was to the front row, and it was Viktor on the violin as he stayed nearby so that Sara could hear the beautiful harmony between the viola and violin. A violin being the background for a viola! Who would’ve thought? Viktor didn’t mind one bit. If arriving late because of traffic gave him the opportunity to hear a melody that he had never heard before on Yuuri’s viola, it was well worth it to see the man before him blossom.

Viktor’s notes cushioned Yuuri’s high ones as he practically guessed his fingerings as he climbed lower and lower down his viola’s bridge. Yuri hid behind his bass, the neck of his instrument covering his lips while his fingers buried into his bass as Yuuri took full-charge of Viktor’s song’s melody. Though he stumbled and had his slip-ups, Yuuri stayed strong to the very end. With the last note fading out along with Minako’s piano, the audience exploded into applause. Viktor bowed his head, Minako gave a good wave, and Yuuri began to tear up.

Michele was hollering his  _ thank-you  _ while pulling Sara into a hug. Sara cried into her brother’s arms, wondering how such a wonderful composition could be dedicated to her.

“We all care about you, Sara. We just want you to get better soon,” Michele whispered into her ear.

* * *

 

[Sara's Dedicated Song](https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B4TpCgU2BwQnalJNWVh1YUxZSW8/view?usp=sharing)

 

**Author's Note:**

> There should be more orchestra AUs like this. A fic where the writer even provides music for at least one of the performances. That's fun~ Makes me wonder how YoI would've turned out if it was an orchestra story instead...


End file.
